


unseen potential

by bonebo



Category: Overwatch (Video Game)
Genre: Dirty Talk, M/M, Male Lactation, Multi, Mutual Masturbation, Piercings, Titfucking, Voyeurism
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-06-22
Updated: 2017-06-22
Packaged: 2018-11-17 10:46:32
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,836
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11273877
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/bonebo/pseuds/bonebo
Summary: “You know we’re gonna get busted for this, right?”Jesse’s voice is unusually hushed, but seems disproportionately loud in the quiet of the small conference room; and beside him, Genji rolls his eyes, pulling the half-burned blunt from his synthetic lips.





	unseen potential

**Author's Note:**

> a commission for the lovely myth-and-mischief on tumblr! <3

“You know we’re gonna get busted for this, right?”

Jesse’s voice is unusually hushed, but seems disproportionately loud in the quiet of the small conference room; and beside him, Genji rolls his eyes, pulling the half-burned blunt from his synthetic lips. 

“No one’s used these interrogation rooms in months. Look.” He drags a finger across the top of the table he sits on, and shows Jesse the clean stripe through the dust left behind. “Besides--who’s going to come looking all the way back here?” He takes another drag, and closes his eyes as he holds the smoke in his lungs; when he talks again, it’s with a pale plume of smoke billowing past his teeth, framing his words. “It’s not like you to be so paranoid. Here.”

He leans forward to hand the blunt over, and Jesse takes it with a faint twist to his lips. “This new Overwatch...it ain’t like last time we was here.” He shifts his weight, more comfortably leaning against the table that Genji sits on. “Things are different now. _We’re_ different.” 

Genji watches him mildly, then reaches out to lay his hand over Jesse’s, letting their fingers loosely slot together. Jesse’s gaze snaps to him, smoke trailing slow from his nostrils--like a dragon, Genji thinks. He smiles. 

“It doesn’t have to be _entirely_ different, does it, Jesse?”

A slow grin pulls at Jesse’s lips, something coy lighting up his eyes; and he turns, blunt still held between his lips as he plants his hands on the table, caging Genji in with his body. 

“Well, sweetheart…” He drags one hand lightly over Genji’s flank, and presses in closer when those shapely thighs easily fall open. “...I reckon it ain’t gotta be.”

Genji beams at him, plucking the blunt from Jesse’s lips and leaning forward to kiss him; on his lip and tongue Jesse tastes like smoke and fire and Genji can feel himself burning with it, a slow simmering thing that starts in his core and crawls over every nerve in his body. He’s just reached up to link his arms around Jesse’s neck, his fingers tangling gently into thick brown hair, when the noise of a door opening startles them both into separating.

“Fuck!” Jesse hisses, body snapping taut as he looks over Genji’s shoulder; Genji turns his head, looking through the two-way mirror at the interrogation room behind them, and his brows shoot up in surprise at seeing none other than Hanzo, carefully shutting the door behind himself.

Even from here Genji can tell his brother is up to something--can tell by the way his shoulders are drawn up, how careful his movements are. He’s in the high-collared jacket that has become his preferred outerwear, and if the cloth carrying case slung over his back is any indication he’s still armed with Stormbow; but why? This wing of the base hasn’t been used since the recall, and the shooting range is on the other side of the building. Before Genji can puzzle it out, he feels Jesse shift behind him, restless. 

“I told you we were gonna get caught,” Jesse whispers hotly, hunkering closer to Genji. “Shit, Angie’s gonna tan my hide when she finds out--”

“She won’t find out anything,” Genji mutters, rubbing his hand between Jesse’s shoulders to try to calm him. “This glass is one-way, and he can’t hear us. We’re fine.”

Despite the confidence in his words, Genji still finds himself unnerved as Hanzo walks up to the glass, close enough for Genji to see how his brows furrow as he peers through it. Hanzo’s gaze lingers for a moment, eyes slowly sweeping around; and when he takes a step back, apparently satisfied, Genji lets out a breath he didn’t know he’d been holding.

“What’s he doin’?” Jesse asks, voice a hushed whisper on the back of Genji’s neck. It makes him shiver, and he turns completely around, folding his legs beneath him as he watches Hanzo. 

“I don’t know. Hush.”

His voice comes out more clipped than he’d like, but if Jesse takes offense he doesn’t say anything. Not that Genji could really notice right now anyway; he’s far too engrossed in watching Hanzo shed his jacket, watching the flex of his shoulders as he peels off his skin-tight black shirt. 

Once he’s bared, the overhead light catches on the glinting rings pierced into Hanzo’s perked nipples--and on the fine, thin chain that hangs between them, swaying gently as he moves to lay his clothes on the floor. 

“Jesus,” Jesse whispers, as Hanzo stretches and makes the thick, defined muscles of his shoulders and arms flex, the lines of his tattoo all but coming alive with the power held beneath them. 

Genji echoes the sentiment when his brother starts to unbuckle his jeans.

They get pushed down his thighs to leave him in his plaid boxers, and then Hanzo is on his knees in front of the glass; he runs his hands over himself slowly, his gaze fixed ahead and focused, and Genji’s mouth goes dry as he realizes that Hanzo isn’t trying to see through the glass after all.

He’s watching himself in the mirror.

Beside him, Jesse sucks in a sharp breath like he’s coming to the same conclusion; and together they watch the secret little display, silent, captivated. 

Hanzo’s hands move slow, with purpose, feeling himself out--they start at his thighs, his fingers flexing as he rakes his nails lightly over his own skin, and even when his head tips back in pleasure he’s still careful to keep himself in sight. His touches move up, gradually, ghosting over each firm ridge of muscle in his abdomen; and Genji’s gaze lingers even after Hanzo has moved on, staring at the trail of tiny black hairs under his fluttering navel, following it down to where it disappears under the waistband of his boxers and licking his lips. 

He wants to chase that trail, and taste the sweat that makes those little hairs stick to Hanzo’s skin.

By the time his eyes have caught up, Hanzo’s moved away from his abdomen and up to his chest, and Genji can’t help but stare. Hanzo’s hands cup his own pecs and squeeze at them lovingly, fingers working to knead the tawny flesh and thick muscle; his dusky nipples get stiffer at the attention, pebbling up around the golden rings pierced into them, deliciously flushed and tender. A tiny pearl of milk beads up at the tip of one stiff, dark nub, and when he trails his thumbs over it to smear the cream over the tips of his perked nipples, touch feather-light and teasing, his mouth falls open with a sigh--

There’s a soft clink of metal to his right, and Genji glances over to see Jesse fumbling with his own belt, his cheeks flushed. He looks up only after he’s pulled his straining cock from his jeans and huffs at Genji’s half-hearted glare. “What? You see what he’s doin’? I’d have to be a damn fool to _not_ get off to this.”

Genji opens his mouth to quip back--something along the lines of how _he_ was supposed to be the Shimada at the forefront of Jesse’s attention, right now--and is stopped by the sound of Hanzo rifling through Stormbow’s case. He glances back to watch, and of all the things he might have expected Hanzo to pull from his bow’s carrying case, a pale blue dildo and a slender bottle of lube is _not_ among them.

“The fuck?” Jesse sounds almost wounded, his fist tightening around his ruddy cock as he stares at the scene; and Genji can’t even find it in himself to reply, too enraptured is he in the sight of Hanzo bringing the dildo to his lips, his eyes half-lidded as he mouths over the thick, blunt tip. He already looks like he’s getting drunk off it--his cheeks flushed a bright, shameful pink, the one hand not holding the dildo made uncoordinated as he squeezes and tugs at his tits to pull more little drops of milk from them, thumb flicking over the nipple lightly--and the longer he watches, the more he stares at Hanzo’s hungry mouth suckling over the fake cockhead and his hand tormenting his tits, the more Genji becomes _painfully_ aware that Hanzo’s little show is affecting him, too.

Genji lets the armor over his groin slip free with the soft hiss of decompression, and sets the plate on the table beside him, next to his mask. He doesn’t take his eyes off Hanzo--off his plush, wet lips kissing hungrily at the fake cock, his eyes half-lidded and cheeks dusky--as he slowly moves a hand down his own body, stopping when his fingertips brush the warm and slick between his spread thighs.

Genji’s played with himself before, of course; but it’s different now, with Hanzo on his knees in front of him, with the slick sound of Jesse jerking off nearby. It’s so much more intense with such a delicious show to watch, the brush of his own fingers over his cunt electrifying--he pants softly as he circles a finger over the throbbing nub of his clit, and bites into his lip, gaze fixated on Hanzo as he grabs for the bottle of lube.

Hanzo turns it upside down, drizzles it lightly over the curves of his chest, and Genji and Jesse both moan in tandem. The thick streaks of lube make Hanzo’s chest gleam as he rubs it across his skin, glisten on his piercings and the chain that hangs between them; and when he lays the dildo between the plush mounds of his tits, the silicone slides easy, fucking the shallow valley that his pecs make in a slick glide.

“Fuckin’ _hell_ ,” Jesse whispers, and Genji’s almost startled by the feel of Jesse’s breath on the back of his neck, Jesse’s sudden warmth looming behind him; his own hand is knocked aside by Jesse’s broader one, and he lays his head back with a gasp as Jesse’s calloused fingertips find his cunt, slide up the wet slit knowingly. “Look at him, darlin’--just look at him, bein’ such a slut and he doesn’t even know, doesn’t know we’re watchin’ him…”

Genji keens at the low purr of Jesse’s words in his ear, arching his hips up into Jesse’s fingers. He can feel the stiff warmth of Jesse’s hard cock, digging like a brand into his lower back, but for once the idea of giving Jesse some attention is in the back of his mind; because he can’t stop staring at _Hanzo_ , at the smooth motion of the toy fucking through the supple valley of Hanzo’s tits, tugging lightly at the chain between his milky nipples on every downstroke. The tip of the fake dick butts up against Hanzo’s chin when he thrusts it up, and he mouths at it like he’s desperate for it, eyes half-lidded and hungry as he suckles and kisses over the silicone. 

He looks like a two-dollar whore, face flushed as he fucks his slick, shiny tits with a fake cock and watches it all in the mirror, his boxers tenting obscenely with his own arousal. Pale pearls of milk have beaded up on the tips of his rosy, erect nipples, dripping down his piercings and chain to spatter wet and scattered across his belly and boxers.

He’s never looked hotter.

“When did he start doing this?” Jesse asks, his voice a ragged pant in Genji’s ear; and all Genji can do is shrug helplessly, reaching back to tangle his fingers in Jesse’s hair with a breathless noise as his clit is flicked and teased _just_ the way he likes by Jesse’s calloused fingertips. 

“I-I don’t--I don’t _know_ …”

And god, he really doesn’t--he doesn’t know where Hanzo learned to arch his chest into the toy’s thrusts like that, where he picked up how to twist his nipples to make his milk spray in an arc wide enough to fleck against the mirror; he doesn’t know when Hanzo started acting like a slut so desperate for attention that he was willing to debase himself and watch it, _get off to it_. His hands are clumsily as he rearranges himself--keeps shallowly fucking his tits with the toy, spreads his thighs wider while his free hand fumbles with his boxers to pull his cock free--and, _oh_.

If Hanzo was hot before, then now he’s a living, breathing wet dream: strands of dark hair clinging to his sweaty, flushed face, his lips slick with drool and mouthing restlessly over the tip of the toy when it pistons through the glossy valley of his leaking tits, his hand almost a blur as it frantically strokes over his straining length. He’s working hard for it, Genji knows--jaw hanging open as he pants with the exertion, his eyes glazed and fixated on his reflection in the mirror, taking in the sight of himself so degraded and needy and _shameful_. 

It’s a delicious sight, and between Hanzo’s writhing body and Jesse’s quick fingers, the friction building where he’s warm and slick, Genji’s on the verge of cumming in a minute; but he paws Jesse’s hands away with a gasp, shaking his head quickly.

“S-stop--stop…” Breathless, Genji reaches backward, fumbling through the coarse curls of Jesse’s prominent bush until he can close his hand around the thick girth of his hard cock. And as much as he wants to meet Jesse’s face, to grin at him, he can’t bear the idea of looking away from Hanzo right now; not when the muscles in Hanzo’s belly are starting to tense up and flutter, the motions of his hands getting jerky. “Wanna--after, wanna cum after…”

“What, after he does?” Jesse chuckles, low and soft like rumbling thunder. His hand drops down to Genji’s cunt again, petting over his slit and smearing the wetness around lightly, and Genji shudders at the feeling, tightening his grip as he clumsily strokes Jesse’s cock. “You wanna cum only after you watch your big brother get off fucking his own tits? That’s real sweet. Watch him, then, but I ain’t gonna stop playin’ with your hot little snatch.”

Genji nods and moans, weak and breathless, his toes curling as he tries to turn his attention back to Hanzo and away from the thick fingers circling his clit. It’s almost like Hanzo can sense the rising tension in the two people watching him--or maybe he’s just finally nearing his peak, his jaw hanging slack as he works to fuck his own fist and slide the toy through the wet valley of his tits. The chain hanging between his nipples bounces with each thrust of the fake cock, and Genji finds himself captivated by the way it gleams, how the light catches on the moving links. 

“I think he’s close,” Jesse whispers excitedly, his breath hot against the back of Genji’s neck and his fingers quicker as they rub and massage over Genji’s wet slit. “Look at him, getting all tense, desperate for it--and you’re there, too, ain’t ya, baby? Yeah, you gonna cum with your big brother, ain’t ya? Watch him, now, gotta time it right...”

Genji has to work to keep his eyes open as the constant stimulation to his clit builds up in his belly, a white-hot coil getting tighter and tighter the longer he watches Hanzo’s show; he so desperately wants to hit his orgasm at just the right moment to match Hanzo’s, and the edging his forces on himself is an exquisite kind of torture that only makes it harder to keep himself in check. He’s whimpering before he knows it, his hand having stilled on Jesse’s cock and his lip bitten, waiting, watching, trembling--

Hanzo throws his head back, and Genji finally lets himself go, moaning high-pitched and ragged as release slams through him. His own climax is almost an afterthought, so focused is he in Hanzo’s completion--in watching the way his supple chest bucks forward, milk spraying from his ruddy nipples in two messy arcs that mirror the cum that pulses from his twitching cock. His body sags a little afterward, his hand leaving his overstimulated cock to instead cup and knead at his tits, coaxing more milk to dribble out around his piercings and run down the lines of his sweaty abs. 

Genji keens softly at the sight of Hanzo in his afterglow, at the sudden, shocking warmth of Jesse’s release spurting against his lower back; and he leans backward against Jesse’s solid, sweat-damp torso, eyes half-lidded and body heavy as he just revels in it all. On the other side of the mirror, Hanzo’s head has dropped forward, his shoulders heaving as he pants--and all Genji can think, as he stares at the gleam of the lube and milk across his brother’s chafed-pink tits, is that next time he’ll have to let Hanzo know that he has an audience.


End file.
